A Space Unto Their Own
by dream vs nightmare
Summary: "But know that this regime works best only if done with someone you find-" Henry pauses here to meet Jo's eyes, and in that pause, Lucas hears a thousand unspoken words. "...very special." Henry, Jo, and the conversation Lucas pretends he doesn't overhear.


Or, the one where Lucas overhears Henry and Jo's talk of Paris, and picks up on all they don't say. Hints of Lucas x Henry, however one-sided.

* * *

"In my humble opinion, the single best thing to do in Paris is get lost." Comes the sound of Henry's voice as Lucas strolls up to his office, pausing a ways outside the doorway when he notices just who he's talking to.

"Lost?" She echoes, almost as if she isn't sure she heard him right. But she's giving him this soft, easy smile even as she asks, and Lucas wonders if he's walked in on something he wasn't truly meant to hear.

He'd noticed that Henry had been donning a new scarf lately, and that Jo had started wearing her necklace less and less, but he hadn't really thought that they were together. Okay, maybe he had, but it'd only been for like a moment or two, because hadn't Henry been seeing Molly and Jo Isaac? And just because they spent so much of their day together didn't mean they _were_ together, right? That's what he'd thought, too, but- Concentrate, Lucas, he tells himself before focusing on Henry's soft response.

"Yes. Wake up, start walking in...any direction, really, and get lost." The expression that flickers across Henry's face whispers of another time, of unending days in Paris when he himself must have done just that. And it's almost funny, because Lucas can picture Henry being perfectly content to lose his way in the meandering, sunlit soaked streets of Paris. And he knows that he'd be just as content to get lost with him, to wander those streets with him long after the setting sun had set fire to the sky.

"Wander the streets until you're so terribly weak that you have no choice but to stop at the nearest cafe and order something wonderful to eat along with a glass or two of wine, and then...set back out into the city and do it all over again."

Jo looks down and away for a moment, as if imagining the scenario in her mind's eye. Something of a smile curves her lips upwards, and he's almost sure that for a second, there, she too had been entertaining the thought of long Parisian afternoons spent with the medical examiner before her. Of how day would melt into dusk as she melted against him, of how he'd murmur nonsensical things to her in perfect French as they wandered the city together, arm in arm. And he smiles, then, because how awesome would it be if his two favorite people started dating in Paris? Never mind the fact that he sort of kind of _maybe_ has the tiniest inkling of feelings for said favorite people.

The sound of Henry's voice drifts out of the office once more, and Jo looks at him as though waking from a dream. Lucas, too, comes back to reality as Henry's lilt surrounds them.

"But know that this regime works best only if done with someone you find-" Henry pauses here to meet Jo's eyes, and in that pause, Lucas hears a thousand unspoken words. "...very special."

"Sounds nice." A smile lingers on her lips even now, but it's a touch fainter than it was before. Like she's wondering if he'd gotten lost in Paris with Abigail. Like she's weighing her daydreams of Parisian afternoons with Henry with the reality of their lives in New York, of the ghosts they hadn't yet let go of.

And then Henry's giving her a soft, easy smile, one that's graced his features only a handful of times since they'd met a good three years ago. He'd been wearing a different scarf, then, and a distant melancholy had touched his face and lingered in his eyes. It'd dimmed only when he spoke of Abigail, then.

But now, now he's standing across from Detective Jo Martinez and looking at her like for all the world, melancholy doesn't exist. He's looking at her like for all the world, Abigail is nothing more than a far off memory.

Woah.

Lucas chooses that precise moment to stride into Henry's office, all the while thinking, no, _knowing_ , that Henry and Jo don't need Paris. No, they only need moments like the one he'd just witnessed. Moments where, between heartbeats and unspoken words, they get lost in a space unto their own. Though both school their features, he knows how they'd looked at each other just seconds before. He pretends to know nothing of it, even as Henry's gaze lingers on Jo as she leaves the room.

To Paris she goes. And maybe it isn't with Henry, tonight, but he's got a feeling that'll change soon enough.

* * *

 **Because the world needed more Jenry/Mortinez fluff.**


End file.
